


Brought In From The Cold

by sunspot (unavoidedcrisis)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Huddling For Warmth, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, War Table Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:47:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26217388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unavoidedcrisis/pseuds/sunspot
Summary: Cassandra gets back from a long mission in Orlais. Cullen is happy to see her.
Relationships: Cassandra Pentaghast/Cullen Rutherford
Comments: 8
Kudos: 30
Collections: Black Emporium 2020





	Brought In From The Cold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dragonflies_and_Katydids](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonflies_and_Katydids/gifts).



By the time they're through the first round of questions, Cadash waves her hands in the air like she's batting something distasteful away. "Stop, please, no more. We'll do the rest tomorrow, okay? I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm still freezing my ass off here. I need sleep, wine, and a fire. Not necessarily in that order."

There's a murmur of agreement from the rest of the party, even Cole who never says anything after his own comfort, until Leliana relents and lets them go. Everyone disperses rapidly, but Cullen catches Cassandra's sleeve when she tries to follow Vivienne out of the war room.

"I'll give you my full report in the morning," she promises. "But the Inquisitor was barely touching on the truth. We've been in here for over an hour and I still can't feel my fingertips."

Instead of letting her go, or admonishing her for complaining, Cullen takes her hands in his and holds them tight. "You were gone far too long," he says, not meeting her eyes.

"We didn't mean to be," she reminds him, pulling her cold hands free again. "The red templars… it was terrible, Cullen, we couldn't very well leave them to their business."

"Fourteen weeks, Cassandra." His words come out in a hiss, aggravated and tired. "And just the four of you. You should have sent for reinforcements."

The first fifteen answers Leliana had demanded were all related to that very subject and Cassandra wasn't about to rehash all of Cadash's more than satisfactory (in Cassandra's opinion) reasoning.

"If you're annoyed or you think it imprudent, you should take it up with the Inquisitor," she says, wrenching the door open.

Cullen forces it shut again with his forearm braced above her head. "Annoyed? Do I only seem annoyed to you? It was damn imprudent, and incautious, and foolhardy, and _stupid,_ to go charging into a mine full of corrupted templars and red lyrium and Maker knows what else, with just the four of you. We couldn't get a message to you; you were cut off for weeks. I thought -- you could have died, Cassandra."

She watches his face as he speaks and she realizes abruptly that he's not annoyed at all. He's angry in a general sense, she knows, but there's more than that.

"You were scared for us." He can be hard to talk to at the best of times, which is why she likes how they can usually coexist without needing to speak. But now he's standing between her and the door, looking terrified and so relieved in equal measure, and looking like he _needs_ to talk. "Cullen," she says, and before trailing off.

He reaches for her hand again and she lets him take it, ignoring the little voice in her head that says it's improper, especially here, and instead focusing on the warmth of his skin on hers.

"You're still freezing," he says.

Cassandra frowns and steps closer, into his space. "That's what I've been saying all night."

He pulls her right in, guiding her hands to the fur draped across his shoulders and dropping his hands to her hips. She tenses for a second or two, but he's a comforting, solid presence in front of her and she won't let herself feel guilty for taking solace in that. Cassandra leans into him, pressing her face to his neck. It's a novelty, how warm he feels, after weeks upon weeks of stagnant, frigid cold.

Cullen slides two fingers under her chin and raises her face to his as if he means to kiss her, and she realizes she's been waiting for it for half the day, since they rode into Skyhold and she saw him across the courtyard. Cullen's lips ghost over hers, the barest hint of a kiss behind it, and Cassandra immediately snorts back a laugh.

He grimaces at her as she plants her feet and settles herself more firmly against him. "I've been gone three months, is that the best you've got?"

That earns her a scoff and a look that scorches, but not with annoyance.

She kisses him instead, sealing her mouth over his and reeling him in with her fingers still buried deep in his furs. It's a searing point of heat between them as Cassandra starts to feel herself warming up all over, especially when his knee parts hers and they're pressed together all the way down.

"Your quarters?" she asks, reaching for the door handle once again. Cullen pulls her away by the wrist, and then all but picks her up bodily and spins her away from the door.

"You've been gone three months, is that the best idea you've got?" he says, echoing her teasing tone.

She wants to object, to remind him he's suggested it before and she's shot him down, to point out there's no lock on the door and that anyone could come back in, or even that Josephine is right down the hall and has sharp ears, but she can't. He covers her mouth with his and all her worries, complaints, and reasonable objections are swept away.

Cullen gets his hands up under the back of her shirt and she soaks up the heat from his touch. He lifts her with ease, two hands splayed flat on her back. It gives her a thrill to be handled, especially because Cullen generally treats her as if she's made of spun sugar.

When he sets her down again, it's on the edge of the wide, wooden war table. Cullen pulls the fur from around his neck and sprawls it on the table behind her. Her feet dangle over the edge, just barely brushing the floor.

"You're incorrigible," Cassandra tells him. Cullen pushes her shoulder, urging her to lie back. She does, avoiding the foolish feeling by straining her ears to hear what he's doing. Using a knee to lever himself up onto the table, he towers over her.

He mutters something she doesn't catch before he starts fiddling with the ties on her breeches. So, they're really doing this here. Cassandra bats his hands away, knowing she can make shorter work of the ties even with her cold hands.

There's a moment of something just then, Cassandra thinks maybe indecision or regret. Cullen pauses and just stares at her, but then he smiles and drops forwards, resting their foreheads together. "I was just so damned scared," he says. She shivers as he bares her skin to the room, half from anticipation, half from that shuddering feeling deep inside that she can't suppress when Cullen looks at her like she's hung the stars (and only somewhat from that lingering, bone chilling cold).

He shows her his fear and relief in equal measure with a kiss, hot and insistent and all-encompassing. Cassandra is engulfed with it, surrounded by it, and she finally lets out her tension, relaxing into the fur and the table.

"Cass?" Cullen asks, pulling back when she sighs.

"It's good," she assures him. "I'm happy to finally be home."

He gives her another look, as encompassing as the kiss. "Home," he repeats.

It's as close to 'love' as either of them has said before. Cassandra feels it, sees it in the look he's giving her, and then she doesn't need to say more.

Cullen seems to understand it too, which is why they work so well together. He backs up, crawling down her body, until he can part her legs with a gentle hand and brush his lips against her cunt.

A little electric thrill runs through her and elicits a shiver. Cullen huffs a warm breath over her dampened skin, a laugh. "I'm going to show you how much I missed you now," he promises.

And he does. Cullen takes her apart with his mouth, all long, slow strokes of his tongue and just the edge of teeth. When Cassandra's breathing turns heavy and she starts to raise her hips off the table, he rides it out with her, laughing against her skin again. "You're incredible," he tells her.

She tries to agree, but a little gasp escapes instead.

Cullen teases at her entrance with one finger. "You're so wet. You missed this, didn't you?"

Cassandra feels the heat rising rapidly in her face. She flings one arm up, over her eyes. It's a familiar movement, when he starts speaking to her like this.

Cullen slides two fingers in, shocking another gasp from her. "Do you want me to stop?"

"Don't stop," she says immediately. She reaches her arm not over her face down to touch him, his hair, his temple, whatever she can reach. He strokes his fingers out and presses them back in, gentle but firm.

"Do you want me to stop talking?" he asks.

Cassandra couldn't blush more if she tried. "No…" she admits. It plays out the same way every time.

"Oh, oh, so you like a man with a dirty mouth." She can hear the grin. He keeps moving his fingers, in and out, coaxing her towards an inevitable orgasm. When Cullen licks at her clit, she moans, louder than she means to.

He shushes her with a quiet laugh. "You must want to be caught?"

She groans again at the thought, though quieter.

"Maker, when you make those noises. I don't think you know what it does to me."

Cassandra twines her fingers in his hair and tugs. He mutters a curse and an encouragement. "Come, please" he begs before sucking at her clit and crooking his fingers inside her to hit that one place he always seems to find.

"Come for me," he asks again and she does, with sparks behind her eyes, hand still twisted in his hair.

"Cullen," Cassandra says, feeling light headed and boneless, lying on the wide war table.

"I don't know if you know yet," he says, sliding up her body, touching as he goes. "If you know how much I missed you."

"I know," she promises.

"Let me show you at least one more?"

Cassandra chuckles. "You won't stop until we've made love on this table, will you?"

"No," he admits. "Unless you're still too cold and tired. I know it's been an impossibly long journey."

She could go to her quarters, or his, and sleep, maybe for a week. Instead, she tugs at his shirt, which he quickly removes. He unties his own breeches and shucks them off.

"If you're sure," he says. "We have some lost time to make up for."

Cassandra sits up to get a better view. And what a view it is. She'll never get tired of seeing him nude in front of her. His chest is a map of scars, his arms, strong and steady.

A bit lower, his cock is flushed and ready. Cassandra reaches for it.

Cullen laughs. "Yeah?"

"This was your idea, I'm not going to beg."

"But you'll ask politely?"

"Now," she grumbles.

And Cullen's never been one to deny her. Climbing back on the table, he presses her gently back onto the fur-covered surface. His cock brushes against the inside of her thigh and he makes a soft sound.

He kisses at her face, cheeks, chin, nose, everywhere but her mouth, until they're both breathless and laughing again. Cassandra has to take him by the chin to connect their mouths, but when they kiss, they do so in earnest.

Cassandra drinks him in, all the warmth from his skin, the feel of his tongue against hers, the smell of him, his soap and the tea he drinks.

Because he seemed otherwise distracted, Cassandra reached between them and took hold of his cock, guiding it towards her cunt. Cullen mouths words into her neck, but she knows they're probably filthy so she doesn't try to parse them.

Once he's filled her, they both pause a moment to savour the sensation, the closeness.

" _Maker_ ," he says on a harsh breath out. "Cassandra… I--"

"I know," she promises.

There's such a focus, a singular instinct, that neither has space for more words. The rhythm they set is leisurely and unhurried. Cassandra doesn't want to rush the moment, but she also figures if they'll be caught in here like this, they may as well have enjoyed it as best they can.

Cullen's bracing himself with one forearm on the fur next to Cassandra's head. She turns her head and kisses him there, whatever is closest to her. He chuckles and brings himself lower to kiss her properly.

She moves her hips up, coming to meet him on every stroke until he tries to still her with his free hand. "I won't last, Cassandra."

"Good," she whispers back.

He stutters for one second and then finds the pace again. "You undo me with a single word."

"Good," she says again, thinking back to all his earlier words.

Cullen comes, dropping his face to kiss her breathless. She drags her nails across his back, earning her a lovely, soft noise of surprise from him that she savours.

"You?"

She shakes her head.

"That won't do," he says. He pulls his softening cock from her and replaces it with three fingers, stretching her gently.

Cassandra squirms against him, feeling her orgasm creeping up. When he murmurs her name and plucks at her nipple with his free hand, she stifles a yelp.

"Don't make me beg, Cassandra, please. I want to see you come."

She closes her eyes and lets the feelings wash over her. She finally feels warm again, and hot even at the places where their bodies touch. Her cunt is scorching.

"Please?" he asks again, putting a growl into it. She comes apart around his fingers. Cassandra arches off the table and grabs for him. He holds her through a small aftershock and kisses her brow, cooing sweet little nothings and placations.

"I missed you," she said. "And not just for this."

Cullen chuckles. "I'm grateful I have more than one use."

"At least… three," Cassandra teases. She kisses his jaw and his neck, cradled in his arms.

Regretfully, they have to separate. "My quarters?" he asks.

She could fall asleep where she is, but that would be a very bad idea; worse even then the idea they just brought to life.

Thank Andraste herself that Josephine's office is quiet and dark when they walk through. The trip to Cullen's quarters are entirely uninterrupted by others.

There's a stop to find water, both to drink and to clean up, then they climb the ladder to the loft and collapse into the unmade bed.

"Sorry," he says, motioning to the clutter of papers, books, and other detritus.

Cassandra's already half asleep and says as much. "Come here. Sleep now. Tidying tomorrow."

He pulls the coverlet over both of them and tucks his arm around her. "Goodnight, sweet Cassandra."

She gives him a sleepy smile. Words are failing her, and also not necessary. The warmth from his skin on hers and the blanket seep into her bones and remind her she's home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Jen, Sara and Toshi for reading and reassuring me when I was over smut in general (silly me).
> 
> Thanks to this pairing for being so easy to ship.


End file.
